The Contracts
by MasterHyperion-Reborn
Summary: Harry's seventeenth birthday is here! And, given he killed Voldemort just before the Summer, he's feeling pretty good. That is, until he hears his uncle shouting about birds shitting everywhere... Rated M for foul language. WARNING: contains my attempts at humour. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.


**A/N  
Disclaimer: I think you guys can suss it out. If I were JK, I'd be living it up in some mansion, not sitting at my desk at 5 in the morning writing bad fanfiction. Oh, and, you know, I wouldn't have a penis. And that has just earned this an M before I've even started writing, just to be safe. Oh well. Not as if I was planning on toning down my foul mouth.**

**Hi guys! I was going to take a break from writing until after exams were over, but I got bored. And a muse! Yay! Sorry 'bout Demons, that'll happen… Eventually… Maybe… And Mors Ulnas, well… The Summer, I promise! Please don't take my spleen! I need that! (Not sure what for, but hey, it's gotta be there for something and I'm too lazy to google it)**

Harry woke on the 31st July to his uncle shouting about birds in the living room. It was then that he knew his birthday was not going to be fun.

Having killed Voldemort at the end of the previous year, he had then been packed off back to the Dursleys', with the reason of 'revenge-seeking Death Eaters'. Reasonable enough, were it not for the fact that the only ones who hadn't been caught at the Dark Moron's defeat were smart enough not to come out of hiding to take ill-conceived revenge on the one who had killed him. Then again, he hadn't seen the Gormless pair or their equally stupid fathers in the ranks of those rounded up afterwards. So maybe they had a _little _point.

Aaanyway. His uncle was shouting something that sounded distinctly like 'those ruddy hawks are shitting everywhere'. But that couldn't be right, could it? For them to do that, they'd need to have been waiting around for a long time… Like since midnight. Ah. He had not considered that some people might be grateful. If annoying enough to send birthday gifts to his house. Bugger. He just knew Uncle Vernon would have him cleaning the entire house for this…

Except he could use magic now. Harry grinned. Oh, this was going to be _fun_!

He quickly shrugged on some casual clothes he had been forced to buy by Hermione the last time they had met up about a week ago. Weird having new clothes. Oh well. Quickly making his way downstairs, he hurried to the source of all the commotion, the living room.

And promptly froze as he saw no fewer than a hundred owls waiting for him in the room. And the rest flocking the entirety of the rest of the house. Well. That certainly explained the liberal covering of bird shit over everything.

His uncle stormed up to him. "How dare you and those freaks do this to my house! Look at the state of the place!" Harry drew his wand, at which point Vernon backed off. A quick _scourgify_ solved the mess, and then he was promptly swarmed by owls. Ok. Not his best plan, he considered, as he fought off the creatures.

"Alright, alright! Give me a bloody second! Merlin…" The owls backed off, apparently willing to wait a little longer. But if their looks at him were anything to go by, this wouldn't last long. A quick talk to Neville over the mirror had him apparating over, much to the consternation of the Dursleys, albeit from a safe distance.

"Hey Harry, what's so urgent?" Harry just pointed behind him. "Ah, Merlin, I should have remembered this." Neville sighed.

"What?"

"A little pureblood custom – marriage contracts." Harry stared.

"You're joking, aren't you?"

"'Fraid not, mate. I got almost 30 myself. It never occurred to me that you might have a problem."

Harry sighed, running hand through his hair. "And, of course, the defeater of Voldemort couldn't have anything simple, could I? So, what should I be worried about? Amortentia on the paper? Portkeys to buxom ladies boudoirs?"

"Umm…."

"Neville…." Harry began dangerously.

"Couldn't hurt to check?"

"Oh Bloody Merlin…"

After the 50th contract, they called Hermione and Ron, asking them to come help. The following hours were consumed by sorting each one into categories:

1\. Worth looking into, if only for ribbing purposes

2\. No.

not, on accounts that I fear for my life

4\. AAAGGGHH! NO! NO! NO! Claw your eyes out no

After opening a particularly… interesting… letter complete with accompanying pictures of a _very_ nubile young lady (and flexible! How did she even get into that position?), Harry felt compelled to add another category:

5\. No, but worth keeping for hanging up on the wall in the dorm.

The final count was 10 in the first category, 140 in the second, 75 in the third (although Harry _was_ unsure about some. Not Blaise Zabini's mother though. Oh no, even he wasn't that stupid), over 500 in the fourth and 200 in the fifth. Hermione had _not_ been happy about that, but had conceded that Harry hadn't wanted them to be sent. Of course, she had no idea he was keeping them.

There were 20 with assorted love potions saturating it, 50 with compulsion charms on them, and 10 portkeys. According to Shacklebolt, who had turned up with obliviators at reports of the house covered in owls, these had been portkeys to various boudoirs of eager young women. Well, one was to an indeterminate location in Malfoy manor and Harry hoped _to God_ that was to their dungeons.

Never before had obliviators had to be called about too many letters being sent to someone. And rarely did they need to obliviate 3 whole streets of people (the owls flying all around were kind of noticeable). Harry felt a sense of accomplishment at that.

So, in all, over 1000 marriage contracts, with 9 barely avoided horrifying trips to girls' bedrooms for mind-blowing sex and one to Malfoy's dungeons (hopefully). Boy, didn't he feel appreciated.

Interestingly, of the 10 Harry had been interested in, 4 were in Slytherin. Well, it was something to think on. Especially that one from Greengrass…

**A/N**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed. Just something I thought of as I was reading. Most likely as an amalgamation of things I've read yonks ago and some recent stuff. Hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to drop a review! I love reading what you guys thing of my stories, given that I frequently think they're a load of horse manure. Ta-ta for now! Oh, and I'm sorry 'bout the crazy formatting troubles. I feel special thanks should be given to Terahlyanwe, Limerickriddle and discb for pointing that out. Especially to Limerickriddle, who actually still read the story through all that shit. Better than I would have done, mate, and for that, I salute you! *salutes***

**-MasterHyperion-Reborn**


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